all sense forfeit

all sense forfeit, this endeavor not lightly taken, where time and worth are lost and only the waiting within solitary and necessary remains. the light of natural simplicity pares away pretense and pleasure until only the barest outline of what was remains. each iteration of the prayer the calling the sunless awakening reverberates slowly as round the circuit every day and night traversing the infinite possibilities of a singular sojourn through the layers of daily life, and expanding the realm of tremendous affection and respect for every living being and element, there is truth, the lonely rider, atop the transport of living flesh, caring for the noble steed as if it were the self and not some faltering vehicle. the only path remains perfectly concealed within and not in the rocks and dirt below. no map or direction reveals its movement and eyes wide and pointed at themselves leads directly to the trail and locates neither direction to follow. inward and away is the only possibility, storing each step as a generator fills the transmission lines, the wires humming with the energy, seeking release but finding none. time like a staircase wrapped round the mightiest pillar of physical experience trickles down the waterfall of delight and remembrance only to fade and submerge into a likeness of the endless repetition of steps taken long before and now echoing with their falling timbre down and up both losing touch as the effort becomes not in the pushing or pulling but in the flow of consciousness rushing like the Amazonian current of being, submerged in some worldly spinning and turning as each wave each rivulet reveals new pockets of unexplored memories of ancient personalities washed ashore as the wake and whirlpools stream and eddy by. there is no source but the sameless self the empty one that has no name or reflection, it sits silent and unresponsive to the rising tides and darkening half moon like slumbers that come upon  the traveler through these uncharted places with no names no familiar faces. but the light is shining from the shores, the beatific natures of every glowing being, adrift or come together apart or enmeshed in the rivers portless drama, the down winding flow that carries each alone and drenched in the sameness of the journeys and the differences that make no difference, the slow even movement or the crazed flailing in the rapids all seeks the same end, the ocean unseen beyond the end of time, where giant creatures of subterranean origin delight in the final destination of the spawning grounds of consciousness.